Single White FBI Agent
by Mercutio
Summary: Scully looks for a roommate. My most popular X-Files story. Humor.


NOTE: This story was inspired by "A Cluster of Dates", by [Anne Elliot][1], and the remark in that story about "women who look like that don't usually live alone". She was kind enough to pass along some humorous ideas about a continuation of that theme, explaining why Scully lives alone, and I wrote them up. 

* * *

**Single White FBI Agent**  
by [Mercutio][2]

* * *

"Mulder, that's the door. I've got to go. It's probably my prospective roommate." Scully stood up, brushing off her skirt, balancing the phone in the crook of her neck. 

She smiled at the question that came from her partner. "No, I don't know if she's attractive." 

The knocking from the door was a little louder. She needed to get over there before the person gave up on her and went away. Firmly, she said to the phone, "No, I won't set you up with her once I find out. Goodbye, Mulder." 

Scully hung up the phone and quickly went to the door. There was, to make Mulder's life that much more miserable, a quite attractive woman on the other side. She had shoulder length brown hair, and had a back pack slung over one shoulder. The woman had said on the phone that she was attending college at Georgetown. 

"Hello, you must be Elizabeth," Scully said, smiling, unobtrusively slipping the gun she'd been holding out of sight. You never knew who might actually be on the other side of the door. "Please, come in." 

The background checks on her prospective roommate had gone well, both the official and the unofficial ones. Numbers Two and Seven had had to be eliminated after the Lone Gunmen had discovered potential ties to the Consortium. The official background check on Number Twelve had revealed that she had been a cheerleader in high school; she had been moved quietly off the list as well. 

Scully showed the woman the apartment, and then brought her back out to the living room. "I do have a few questions for you." 

Elizabeth Farquhar nodded. "No problem. What did you want to know?" 

"I told you on the phone that I'm often away from home. The reason for this is that I work for the FBI. I work long hours, and I'm often on the road, traveling." Scully launched into her spiel, ascertaining that her prospective roommate had no problems with watering plants left unattended by long jaunts off into the wilds by their caretaker, that she was not red-green colorblind, and that containers in the refrigerator which were marked "Do Not Touch" or "Caution: Biohazard" would not be taken out and eaten. 

In return, the college student wanted to know what Scully's thoughts were on late night studying (fine -- at least there'd be someone to answer the phone when Mulder called at 2 a.m.), putting in a separate phone line for her modem (very considerate), and having a cat (okay; just keep it away from alligators). 

"Good," Scully said, smiling. "When can you move in?" 

"Would Saturday be all right?" 

"Saturday's just fine." Scully made a note of that. She needed to reschedule her autopsy on the severed hand which Mulder insisted had engaged in self-propelled motion. He'd even given it a name in the X-File: 'Thing Addams'. She preferred 'John Doe'. That shouldn't be too difficult, though. 

Scully looked up from her notes. "There's just one last thing --" She had to go over the emergency procedures with her new roommate first. It would be rather unfortunate if the woman was killed on her first day in the apartment through not knowing the proper safety protocols. 

"Now, if gunshots are fired through the front window when I'm not at home, here's the number to call," Scully said, showing Elizabeth the emergency numbers right by the phone. "If I am at home, get down on the floor. We'll have a phone installed in your room; you can crawl there and call the police from there. I'll get another copy of the emergency numbers laminated so that you can have one for your room. 

"If little grey aliens show up, dial my partner's cell phone. That number is here, too, but I'd advise you to memorize it. 

"If a woman named Samantha arrives without warning, you'd better call me first. But be sure she bleeds red. If she bleeds green, go down the fire escape, go to the nearest phone booth -- two blocks west and one block north and call a cab." 

Scully looked up, struck by a sudden thought. "You know, you might want to get a cell phone of your own. Then you could call me en route. Put my number on your speed dial. You'll also need my partner's number, the number for the FBI, the D.C. police, and, oh yes, the hospital. I think that one's by the phone too." 

Scully leaned over and looked to make sure. "No. It's not. Just a second." She opened a drawer and fumbled around inside, coming up triumphantly with a folded map. She pulled it out and opened it, showing it to the woman. "Now, this map is labelled with all of the hospitals in the area, along with their phone numbers and specialties. I've colorcoded them and marked their territories, so that you can see which one you need to call, depending on where you might be at the time you need them. We're right here, next to this hospital," putting her finger down on a blue blob, "and, as you can see, there's the phone number. 

"I keep the masking tape in the second drawer of the cabinet next to the refrigerator. If you need help and the phone's out, you want to get that and put an X in the window. But be careful opening the door, because sometimes the people who show up aren't always friendly." 

The college student looked a little green by this time. 

"You might want to have a gun with you when you open the door. In fact, make sure to always have a gun with you when you open the door, especially if you aren't expecting anyone. You never know who it might be. You do have a concealed weapons permit, don't you?" 

Farquhar shook her head, and Scully looked disappointed. "I suppose we could work around that. I really am looking forward to having you move in." She made a note on her paper about the lack of permit, then looked up, an earnest expression on her face. 

"One last question. Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?" 

Farquhar looked completely terrified. "Thank you. But no thanks," she said quickly, getting the words out in a rush before Scully could say anything else. She jumped to her feet, grabbing the straps of her backpack and almost ran out the door. 

Scully watched her go, mouth open. Was it something she said? 

-the end-

   [1]: mailto:christiano@aol.com
   [2]: mailto:mercutio@europa.com



End file.
